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Poetry |
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Last Updated: 26/08/2007 14:05:04
Max the dog
By Angela Sarson
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Max the dog
while I'm on the bog
is sniffing the floor
his tail wagging the door
He snorts at the smoke
when I blow out a toke
he looks at me sadly
like I'm treating him badly
He looks at the toilet in disbelief
as he hears the splashing waters beneath
he lays on the floor and gives me a wink
and then concentrates on under the sink
Max the dog
while I'm on the bog
is a beautiful hound
who I saved from the pound.
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Copyright © 2007 Angela Sarson
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Poetry - Ode To Medea By Scott Rorrison
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So begins the tragedy of Medea
Her love for Jason is truly dear;
Father and brother now deceased,
She helped Jason gain the Golden Fleece.
Exiled in a foreign land
She can no longer hold her
Read more...
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Poetry - Is Anybody There? By Maurice Fairfield
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What's to come is still unsure
Only one thing's really certain
One day (some day fairly soon)
I'll check out that final curtain *
Will I play it centre-stage?
Will I pass out in the wings?
Will I rant in noble rage
Read more...
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Poetry - Mormon By Michelle Dee
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No coffee, no tea
cigarettes are not for me.
Read the good book everyday,
pray all week church on Sunday.
Peddle the word from door to door
to preach the scriptures all the more.
God to get the message across
Read more...
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Poetry - When Stella came to Town By Shaun Heesom
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The whole of 'Cheese' got drunk
And plenty hit the ground
This night of cheer, and Belgian beer
When Stella came to town
We'd put up with 'Hopfenperle' too long
This weak insipid bevvy
Read more...
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Poetry - Spending Time At The Crime Scene By Joe Hakim
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Coping with the enormity
of committing the crime of the century,
my heart is empty
and so is my head,
no sleep when I go to bed,
something outside is dead.
Read more...
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Poetry - Eyes By Michelle Dee
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I go out you all look at me
Stares from everybody I see
Your eyes burn my back
What the hell are you looking at?
Some sad excuse for a girl
Tired eyes hair with a curl
Read more...
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Poetry - Lines of Life - Part Seven By Paul England
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So I decided to go to the gym. I stopped smoking pot and started training five days a week. I gained about a stone and a half over about 5 months.
He still sorted my pot out but he never stayed at my house, and when he did come he always had a mate with him. You see before Mike died I'd have sorted him out with not a second thought, but I'd changed.
Read more...
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Poetry - Estonian Courage By Laura Fry
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He
Will always be here in my heart
And you knew this from the start
And the real man that you are knew he had to understand
He
Although my love was all in vain
Read more...
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Poetry - Beyond The Glass By Mike Watts
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Up, with the flat-top and yogurts
I palm a circle into the condensation
And watch, through fusty wet,
A surrendered street expose itself.
Two plaster-spattered jackets light up
Beside a battered van.
Read more...
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Poetry - Little Miss Hoity-Toity On The Corner
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It's little miss hoity toity on the corner.
The pinny people with the Jaguar, vegetable patch and perfect lawn. The kind that look out of their window every time they hear a horn. They are the posh estate rejects. The council estate so called "perfects". Bin cleaners, kerb sweepers and football pinchers.
Police informants who keep garden ornaments.
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Poetry - Litter Bug By Stuart Murray
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Space raider, the kerb invader.
Regal packets reject, where's the focus point gone?
A crushed Carling can is the point to this song.
Mars bar wrapper, Carrier bag.
Twix dropped like the fix.
Read more...
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Poetry - The Road Sweeper By Mike Watts
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Reluctantly he slipped away from the depot
And pushing through his steaming breath
With thin-gloved flesh numb as death,
He shrank into the thickening snow.
And like a bud, he embraced the dissolving
Of whiteness, evermore bitter
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Poetry - Lines of Life - Part Six By Paul England
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I remember this one night we went in pub.
There was me, our lass, her sister and Deansy.
We were playing pool when a fight broke out between some of the local
dealers and a couple of guys. I saw what was going on and made a move real quick.
I knew they had put one of them in a bad way.
Later I heard on the radio that he was dead.
My life was in bits and my head had gone to shit.
Read more...
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Poetry - The Green-Eyed Monster By Laura Fry
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There's no logical reason that I should feel insecure,
But when one's had the life I've had one can never be sure
You are so sweet; your love is so true
It was me that you married, my trust is in you
But then I see these women that are
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Poetry - British Person English Pride By Stuart Murray
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Stuart Murray www.myspace.com/britishpersonenglishpride
is a new poet writing from his hometown in Leeds. His debut offering
British Person English Pride is a collection of 27 poems.
His keenly observed verse demands your attention, describing societal issues offset
with an exploration of patriotism in today's Britain.
Read more...
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Poetry - Lines of Life - Part Five By Paul England
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In the end our Dave got with Bev and moved in with her. The housing people found out my mam was not living with us so I had to give the house up. I had a choice 'cos our Mike wanted it so he said I could live with him and his family or get a flat of my own. I let him move in.
He had said that he wanted to stop selling pot and that he wanted me to so I did, but when he moved in he
Read more...
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Poetry - The Decline Of The Fishing Industry By Mike Watts
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Once I battled for frogs
When the waters bubbled and croaked
With slippery life.
I hunted minnows, flashing silver arrows
Darting through the weeds;
Caught and re-housed in soup-tins,
Chipped mugs, held tightly like
Read more...
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Poetry - Lines of Life - Part Four By Paul England
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In the end our Dave got with Bev and moved in with her. The housing people found out my mam was not living with us so I had to give the house up. I had a choice 'cos our Mike wanted it so he said I could live with him and his family or get a flat of my own. I let him move in.
He had said that he wanted to stop selling pot and that he wanted me to so I did, but when he moved in he
Read more...
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Poetry - Off The Chest By Mike Watts
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I'm sick of you
You're full of crap
Mr 'victim' of the poverty trap
What bollocks - and to be blunt
You're just a fucking lazy cunt
Sat on your arse for twenty years
Blowing dope and necking beers
Read more...
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Poetry - Lines of Life - Part Three By Paul England
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About a year passed and my dad had met this bird, Sue. After a month or so she was moving in while we were getting pushed out. My dad had said that we would always come first but he lied.
I remember one night I started arguing with Sue. I called her a silly cow and my dad grabbed me round the neck. I ran out and I said 'I'm going to my mams'.
Read more...
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Poetry - Paris Is Burning By Patrick Henry
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In '68, students seized Paris to man the barricade;
Copied the '89 Revolution, when Jacobins stormed
The Bastille; guillotined the ruling class to carve a state
Into The Republic, which each new generation remade.
In film, The Cars That Ate Paris, named autos the enemy.
Now 2000 and odd, past boulevards,
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Poetry - Lines of Life - Part Two By Paul England
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At this time I was knocking about with our Phil. He was working 'cos he had already left school. Me, I was always wagging off school and when I did bother to turn up I was just bad. I had three different teachers in my first three years at seniors, I never did my work, I was just a complete pain in the arse.
Read more...
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Poetry - The Hand That.....By Yellow Bear.
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The hand that heals, should be
gentle, quiet and unobtrusive like
the air, that gently cushions the
leaf as it falls to its source.
The hand that heals, should be
unannounced in its giving, like the hand
Read more...
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Poetry - Lines of Life - Part One By Paul England
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We all start out the same, young, cocky and we just don't give a fu**. I was no different.
For most my life I lived on North Hull and Bransholme. I've got two older brothers and a younger sister.
I want to start my story when I was 10 years old going on 11. It was coming to the point where
I was starting seniors, times were changing quick. Drugs were coming big again, and
Read more...
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Poetry - Thank You Friends Reunited By Laura Fry
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Thank you Friends Reunited, for helping me see
That I've actually done rather well
Because almost all those who bullied me at school
Have hardly moved an inch out of the same old suburban hell
They still see all the same old faces
And miss the same old buses
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Poetry - Something Like By Joe Hakim
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It's like the guy asleep in a doorway with
an empty tinnie in his hand.
It's like the hours you spend
staring at the paint peeling from the wall
opposite you because
you can't sleep.
Read more...
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Poetry - On Getting A Mate A Job By Mike Watts
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He reckons life was wonderful
When he was on the dole
When he had fuck all.
Well now it's a mess
Because there's even less
He's never any dosh
Got a prick for a boss
Read more...
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Poetry - Then, There Will Be No Hope (VT Massacre) By Del Abe Jones.
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If we don't change the way we do
And learn to do what we don't
If we can't each, honor ourselves
It's a sad fact that others won't
And there will be no hope!
If life isn't treated sacredly
Read more...
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Poetry - I Hope You Know By Lee Cassanell
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The Jews are killing gentiles
And the world is run by reptiles
Queen Elizabeth herself
Is such a snake
There are UFO's in Roswell
All philosophy is causal
Read more...
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Poetry - Head Gone By Joe Hakim
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My head's gone,
packed its case and left.
My head's gone,
don't know when I'll see it next.
My head's gone,
it's off to parts unknown.
Read more...
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Poetry - Was Hitler Misunderstood? By The Grunt People Collective.
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Question: Was Hitler misunderstood?
Was all he wanted, to do good?
Protect his people me and you
From the people trying to
Blow us up and chop us down burn our children to the ground
Kill the people, who just might
His methods sure may be extreme
Read more...
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Poetry - Girl You're A Real Man Now and Take Me Down Your Stream By The Grunt People Collective.
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Being one and the same
Girls got nothing to gain
Fro' tryin' to be a man
Tryin' to be a man
Lovers feel no pain
Rattlesnake in water
Read more...
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Poetry - Antipodes By Carol Coiffait
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When you went away
the temperature dropped by four degrees.
Clouds conspired to hide all trace of blue.
The bird-box produced three dead coal tits
and every sparrow changed its tune.
I sent your birthday gift
Read more...
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Poetry - Underground And Inside By Andrew Wastling.
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We are the Diggers and we are Jerusalem,
We are Robin Hood's outlaws with nowhere
To run to.
We are Freedom and the scent in the air,
Of Gerrard Winstanley and Wat Tyler's heirs.
We are not broken for
Read more...
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Poetry - - Southern European Fashionistas By Laura Fry
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Southern European fashionistas
They really do my head in
With their snotty manner and ten-inch stilettos
That no-one in their right mind would be seen dead in
Trying to get a smile on their faces
Is like trying to jump a ten-metre hurdle
Read more...
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Poetry - Means To An End By Del Abe Jones.
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Some will say, People for Peace
Who only want the War to end
Are bad for the Troops morale
And the wrong message to send.
But, who more than those Troops
Would like to come home to stay
Read more...
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Poetry - Navajo Code Talkers By Del Abe Jones.
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In May of Nineteen forty-two
The first of those Talkers came to be
At Camp Pendleton, California
They formed that special "Dictionary".
During the First World War
When the Choctaw was used some
Read more...
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